


Chaos Theory

by Asmicarus



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, References to Ash Lynx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asmicarus/pseuds/Asmicarus
Summary: Years after the events of Banana Fish, the people impacted by the life of Ash Lynx live on to tell their own stories and form their own paths. But despite life going on, they never once forgot the impact of one person on each of their lives. The one person that draws them all together.1. Max, Jessica and Michael2. Sing Soo-Ling and Lee Yut-Lung3. Eiji4. Alex, Kong, Bones, Nadia and Charlie5. Cain6. Blanca7. Epilogue
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Blanca/ Lee Yut-Lung (implied), Charlie Dickenson/Nadia Wong, Max Lobo/Jessica Randy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	1. Max, Jessica and Michael

**Author's Note:**

> One thing that I wished had happened in the series was the truth of Banana Fish and Ash Lynx being revealed to the world. I wanted to give my own closure to many of the characters we don't see in Garden of Light. : )
> 
> Apologies if updates are a wee bit slow. I will try my absolute best to be consistent. The chapters will be way shorter than my usual Iliad length oneshots, so it should be far more manageable! :D
> 
> I can't promise these will be particularly well written, but I can promise that I'm having a lot of fun writing them! :D
> 
> If anyone sees any S/P/G mistakes, feel free to correct! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Banana Fish or its characters in any capacity. Any relations to any persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Xx

“Are you going to linger in the doorway all night or do we _all_ have to freeze to death!?”

“Calm down, woman! I’m almost there!”

Max shunted his feet a few times on the welcome mat, watching as the snow jumped from the tips of his boots to melt slowly on the ground under him. He complied with Jessica’s request and closed the front door. The relief was almost immediate as the chill of the air outside ceased to pinch at his nose and cheeks. Waddling his way into the house, Max toed off his shoes before catching a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. He looked more like Nanook of the North than he ever cared to, but he’d never been one for the bitterness of winter. He thought maybe his military service had put him off for life. Memories of sleeping outdoors in thin tents haunted his mind. Shivering under bushes and trudging through freezing lakes. Just thinking about it made an unconscious shiver trail up his spine. It was then that he concluded that every item of clothing, however ridiculous looking, was an absolute necessity.

It was edging ever closer to Christmas and New York was just too damn cold. Everywhere he stepped, what was meant to be fluffy white snow had dissolved into slush, and Max had almost slipped over twice on the way home. However, it seemed as though the Christmas cheer had made its way into the hearts of the city folk, even if those very same hearts could be as cold as the weather around them. Apparently, there was no mercy when you took too long at the station turnstile.

He removed his hat and gloves, and placed them neatly in the cubby hole upon Jessica’s firm instructions. She had been on a rampage about the state of their house for a week now, doing chores twice as loudly as necessary just to get her point across. The last thing Max wanted tonight was to invoke his wife’s wrath. After finally hanging up his thick coat, he made his way to the kitchen, where his dear Jessica was stood over a large pot of something or other simmering away on the stove. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing. She was always the most excellent cook. Her mother was the same. Max took a moment to just look her up and down appreciatively. It was no secret his wife was beautiful. Dressed to the nines, she was like a gorgeous Greek statue. Even though Max loved her like that, it was like this where he loved her the most. With her makeup looking an absolute state, messy hair thrown into a low ponytail and dressed in the well-worn sweats she had owned since Michael was born. She was truly something else. All that and the personality to go with it. Max considered himself one lucky, lucky bastard.

He trudged up behind her to encircle her waist and plant a small kiss on the crown of her head. She responded by giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

“How was work?” She asked. Behind her, Max shrugged, a small but smug smirk making its way onto his face.

“Pretty normal, I suppose. Week eleven of being a New York Times best-selling author and watching as senators curse my name in the press.” Jessica sharply thwacked his hand with her wooden spoon.

“Ow! Hey!” She whipped around to face him.

“You keep saying things like that as if it’s something to be proud of!” Max dramatically nursed his sore hand and rolled his eyes. He took a step back to cockily lean a hip on the counter.

“Tell me here and now that they don’t deserve it. That the world doesn’t deserve to know. Say the word and I’ll stop bragging.” Max crossed his arms over his chest and Jessica’s face morphed into an expression of disapproval. In his heart of hearts, however, Max knew that she agreed with him deep down. Even if the trouble it caused sometimes seemed more than it was worth. Confident he was in the clear, Max threw an arm around his wife and propped his other hand on his hip.

“Not every woman can say their dear hubby just exposed one of the biggest drug scandals in US history, outed the US Senate in being complicit in aforementioned scandal, and unveiled a separate child abuse scandal. All that and having a documentary crew follow up on it all. We’re going far, kid!” Jessica shook her head and rolled her eyes, but Max could see the smile underneath her exasperation.

“Not many women can say their husbands also run headfirst into gunfire with teenagers like they don’t have a wife and son!” Max leaned in closer to take her hips in his hands.

“Well if you want to be technical, I didn’t have a wife then!” Jessica shakes her head again, and Max leans forward to peck her lips softly.

“I love you, you oaf.” She whispered.

“I love you too.” He replied.

“Now, will you let me get back to cooking before this takes all night!”

Max pulled away with a smile and rummaged around for his phone, which had been hastily stuffed into his back pocket after he got off the train. 47 emails. He groaned internally. He hasn’t even been away for that long. He must have left the office only twenty minutes ago! He supposed this was a small price to pay for his success.

For exposing Banana Fish and everything involved.

For years, Max had been unsatisfied that the truth had not been revealed in its entirety. Every night he tossed and turned thinking about what could have been. If all the evidence had never been lost. One day, at about three in the morning, it all got too much to keep in. So, he thought it only natural, as a journalist, to write it all down. To get it all out of his head. As he continued to write, the more things began to make sense. The more pieces slotted into place even without the necessary evidence. He recounted every place he went, every person he met, and charted what was put into the public domain. It all came together within a matter of months. Although he didn’t have the evidence to prove Banana Fish existed as a drug, he had everything that surrounded it. It was like tracing a shockwave back to the origin of the explosion with the knowledge that, had the bomb not been placed, the fallout would never have happened.

Max knew his book, once published, would cause uproar amongst various government officials. He had spent weeks preparing to protect himself and his family from what would surely be a media onslaught. What he hadn’t expected though, was for so many ordinary people to pick up his book. So much so, it became a cult phenomenon. At first it was just political analysts and big wig businessmen divulging into its pages. Then it was congressmen. Before Max knew it, everyone was talking about Banana Fish.

It blew up so much that Senators could not simply brush it off as a mere conspiracy theory. Especially when his accounts had been backed up by various, and oftentimes dubious sources. Ex-members of New York’s criminal underworld came forward to confirm their involvement. Tycoons operating in Asia issued statements regarding the reality of what the US government had been planning in collusions with the Corsican Mafia. Max suspected their comments were more for propaganda against the US than anything else, but it still helped his case. However, there was one anonymous source that sealed the deal for the legitimacy of his book. An unknown person, who was assumed to be a Russian defector. A person who had published their own reports on the activities of the Kremlin before the dissolution of the Soviet Union. His reports had recounted, in detail, the staged assassinations that were written off as criminal doings. The person had come forward and wholeheartedly confirmed that everything written in ‘Banana Fish’ was absolute truth. Max had his inkling as to who it could be.

The New York Times had said the book would ‘shake the very foundations of the White House’, the American Journal of Political Science called Banana Fish ‘a scandal enough for three lifetimes’. The White House, unsurprisingly, had yet to make a statement.

Suddenly, his book and Banana Fish were everywhere. People were discussing Banana Fish on the streets, reporters came to interview him, and documentary crews were begging for his comments. It should have been far less surreal than it actually was, and yet Max still had to pinch himself when he remembered that people knew about what he and so many people had gone through thanks to that drug.

When he had started to write his book, he hoped that there would finally be some comeuppance for those whose involvement was overlooked by the White House hearing a few years ago. Something for those who thought their actions would go undetected or overlooked. Those who thought money and power could protect them from Lady Justice’s sword. And in a way, Max had done exactly what he set out to do. But strangely enough, it wasn’t even so much the intricacies of Banana Fish as a scandal that drew people to the book.

Max tapped around on his phone and found himself reading the online reviews again. No matter how many times he looked, they all said the same thing.

The people wanted to know about Ash Lynx. The world had become enraptured by the beautiful gangster who died in the New York public library, and curious as to why he clutched a letter signed by one of New York’s most renowned photographers.

Max felt the familiar sensation of guilt well a little in his chest. He had discussed the book with Eiji before he had gone to the publisher. Eiji was an intimate part of the book. The same way it was impossible for Ash and Eiji to be apart, it was impossible to write the story of Ash without including Eiji. Max knew if he was going to publish, he had to respect Eiji’s wishes and privacy. Max went to visit him and reassured him that Eiji only had to say the word, and he wouldn’t go through with it. Max wouldn’t subject him to having to relive his heartache within the public eye. After Eiji had spent a long night thinking about it and talking to Max and Jessica about the next steps over a pizza, he had agreed to the publication. He wanted the world to finally know.

For the first few weeks, the unexpected popularity of the book became overwhelming for all of them, but especially Eiji. He couldn’t go anywhere without reporters sticking cameras and Dictaphones in his face and asking for comments about his relationship to the infamous Ash Lynx. After one particularly bad day, Max quickly issued a public statement requesting his privacy, and threatened legal action should the harassment persist. Eiji stayed at their house until the buzz had died down somewhat.

Since ‘Banana Fish’ was published, however, Max had sensed some kind of shift in Eiji. Something in his demeanour and person. He seemed to be more content. As if the restlessness inside Max also existed inside him, and with the world knowing the truth, it had finally settled. Max was surprised when Eiji had agreed to sit down to an interview with the documentary crew detailing his involvement both in the Banana Fish scandal and with Ash Lynx. Max was happy for him. It seemed, at least from the outside, that some of the scars Ash left behind were beginning to fade.

“You know, if the wind changes, your face will stay like that.” Max snapped out of his mental monologue to look up from his phone. Jessica was regarding him with that concerned gaze of hers. Max never meant to make her worry.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about Eiji.” Jessica turned off the hob behind her.

“All things considered; I think he’s doing really well. He seems to be opening up more to us and to himself.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Jessica smiled.

“It’s a parent thing. Now, go set the table, dinner’s almost ready.”

Max kissed her one last time, partly because he could, and partly in understanding, before he paced his way across the kitchen to the adjourning dining room. Despite the national scandal Max had caused, the revenue from book sales meant they were able to move into a bigger apartment in New York. It made life a lot easier. It was closer to the news office where Max worked writing columns, and close to Jessica’s workplace. It was close to Michael too. The move had made unanimous sense. Although, Max wasn’t sure how long it would be before he wasn’t writing columns anymore. His schedule was getting more and more full.

He made to clear the clutter that had found its way to the table. He almost got away with moving it without noticing what it actually was. When he did clock on, he groaned and blushed red to his hairline.

“Urgh, Jessica! Do your work photos have to be all over the table!?” Max sheepishly closed the open portfolio and tucked it into a nearby box.

“You leave your work all over the table, why can’t I!?” Jessica shouted back from the kitchen.

“My work isn’t so… explicit. What if Michael sees!” He could practically _hear_ Jessica roll her eyes.

“If you think that Michael doesn’t watch or read porn then you’re deluded. His friends probably own copies of my magazine!”

Max _really_ didn’t want to think about the probability of his son watching or reading any kind of porn. Really didn’t. Jessica called from the kitchen again.

“Besides, the magazine is doing so well! Just you watch, Sugar and Spice will overtake Playboy for sales in the next year!”

It was down to Jessica’s hard work as editor-in-chief that ‘Sugar and Spice’ went from a corner store magazine to a nationwide, and soon to be global market bestseller within the industry. Max didn’t read too much into detail, but reviewers praised the publication for artistic creativity and high-quality catering to both men and women. Despite all that, the thing that Jessica, and Max on that note, were most proud of, was the fact they were renowned for their exceptional standards of ethics. Jessica and the magazine openly campaigned and lobbied for rights for sex workers, and donated a portion of their profits every month to assisting survivors of sexual abuse and exploitation get back on their feet. Jessica herself even ran some of the group sessions on the weekends. Quite frankly, even though he blushed, Max couldn’t be prouder. Of both the magazine and his wife… Mostly his wife.

Still, it didn’t mean he always appreciated naked ladies all over his dining room table.

Max squirreled the portfolios and draft shots into another nearby storage box with ‘JESSICA WORK’ scribbled on the side with sharpie. He meandered to the cutlery draw to set out some bowls when he heard the front door click and a jet of cold air rush into the warm apartment. He set the bowls down to poke his head around the corner and see Michael standing in the hall. His heart still leapt a little every time he saw his son. Although this time, he just had to laugh. Michael didn’t cope with the cold any better than Max. He was so bundled that between his hat and scarf, only his eyes were visible. He wiped his feet on the mat and Jessica cooed to him from the kitchen in the tone she reserved only for her son.

“Michael! Close the door please, darling!” Max furrowed his brow cheekily.

“So he gets a ‘darling’ and I don’t?” Jessica set down her spoon and wasted no time in welcoming Michael home, ignoring Max entirely on the way.

“Because he’s a darling and you’re not!”

“Hey Mom!” came the mumble from underneath the layers. Jessica helped Michael shimmy out of his coat before taking him into a firm embrace. God, he was taller than she was now. Every time Max saw them hug, he couldn’t believe how tall Michael had gotten. It seemed like only yesterday he was just a scrawny little kid. His boy wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was a man now, and Max felt so, so old. Every day he could feel his midlife crisis hitting him just a little harder. Although he was yet to feel the need to buy a new car or grow a ponytail or something.

“Hey kiddo! How was rehearsal?” Max made his way over and Michael hugged his father as tightly as he did when he was a kid. It was something Max would never get tired of. Although he did groan a little when his son, strong man that he was now, squeezed a bit too hard for his old bones. Michael pulled off his hat, and both Max and Jessica laughed at his scruffy hair. Half pulled up in a band to keep it off his face, and the other half hanging loosely at chin length.

“Urgh. Long. It was the sitz probe today and I swear we were all ready to collapse by the end. I ran a costume change like, four times!”

“Well, it’s good you’re home now for some proper food.”

Jessica lead the three of them to the dining room. Behind her, Michael warmed his hands by rubbing them together quickly and blowing hot air between his palms. Jessica took their bowls one by one to serve up dinner. Max sat himself at the table with Michael to his right, as they always did. Max nudged his elbow enthusiastically.

“So! I expect this show to be great then! Shall we sit in the front row where you can see us?” Michael shook his head furiously.

“Please don’t! If I see you, I’ll get too nervous!”

Max laughed. It was always strange to him how such a shy kid turned out to be such a good performer. When he was little, Max had taken him to ballet class, and almost thought nothing of it when the instructor had told him that he had real talent. Fast forward a couple of years and Jessica was taking him to auditions for ballet school. If Max was honest, he hadn’t expected Michael to get in. It turns out he underestimated his son. He remembered them all nervously waiting for him to open the letter to tell him that he had been accepted into the New York City Ballet. And here he was. Opening in ‘The Nutcracker’ at the Koch Theatre in three weeks. When he got the part, Max had bragged to everyone he knew about it. Sent out invites to everyone he could think of. Now Michael had audience members from photographers, ex-gang members and Chinese mafia coming to see him. Max wouldn’t have it any other way. He couldn’t wait to see his son up on the stage where he belonged.

As Jessica set a plate in front of him, Max felt a magnetic pull. A pull that directed his eyes to a seemingly innocuous photo on the wall that sat just to the side of the table. 

It was a framed photo of Ash holding a young Michael. Both of them were laughing gleefully with huge grins on their faces. Michael had his tiny arms around Ash’s neck as he held him, and Ash smiled as if he never had a care in the world. He only ever smiled when Eiji took pictures.

Max felt a tug at his heartstrings. A melancholic ache.

“Pops?” Michael was looking at him with the same concerned expression he saw all too often on his wife’s face. Next to him, Jessica smiled softly. Michael followed his father’s gaze and realisation crossed his face when he noticed what he was looking at.

“Missing him? Damn, I barely knew him compared to you, and I still miss him.” Max allowed a small smile to spread.

“Oh, kid, if he were still here, he’d be the first one with tickets to the show. He would have sat there and beamed whenever you were on the stage. He loved cultured stuff like ballets and operas.” Jessica must have sensed the remembrance rolling off him. She reached over to take his hand.

“And he would have called me an old lady, and I’d pretend to be mad at him, even though he was right!” The three of them chuckled. On his other side, Michael took Max’s other hand.

“It sounds weird when I say it out loud, but when we talk about him like this, I feel his presence here in spirit.” Max understood.

“I don’t know if there’s anything waiting for us after death, but I do know that keeping his memory alive gives him life after death on Earth.” Jessica hummed in agreement.  
“And now thanks to New York Times best-selling author Max Lobo, the whole world knows the truth about the real Ash Lynx.”

They each took a moment of silence between them. Max knew that Michael was right. He could almost picture Ash right now. As if he were sitting at the table with them.

_Damn, Pops, stop with all the sap before the food gets cold, will ya?_

Max chuckled. If anyone were to ask him, he would tell them he had two sons.

“Right.” The atmosphere of the room brightened as Jessica clapped her hands together. “Time to eat!” Michael shuffled his chair further in and picked up his cutlery.

“Smells amazing mom!” Jessica smiled. If she hadn’t been on the other side of the table, she definitely would have pinched his cheek.

“There’s seconds if you want it, sweetheart.”

“Do I get seconds?”

“Don’t be daft.”

Even with a member missing, Max thanked whoever was out there that this was his family, and he had the friends he did.

And most of all, that he got to let the world know the truth about Ash Lynx. The boy he considered his second son.


	2. Sing Soo-Ling and Lee Yut-Lung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Hong Kong, Sing and Yut-Lung talk fashion and unfinished business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up! 
> 
> I only lived in Asia for a short while so, like Sing in this chapter, I speak Cantonese like a child! If any Cantonese speakers see issues with my language skills, please feel free to point it out! 
> 
> Disclaimer in Chapter 1 
> 
> Please Enjoy! :D

“I like this one!” Sing exclaimed as he admired the suit in the mirror. He turned left and right to ensure it was fitting correctly. It was a distinguished cut, and the colour was a little unusual, but not garish. Sing was starting to think, or rather hope, that perhaps he’d finally found the one. He’d been looking for a new suit for ages, without having the time in his busy schedule of business meetings to actually go shopping. Every day he found himself increasingly bored of the deep blues and blacks of his wardrobe. Professional didn’t have to be unstylish. Behind him, a voice jeered from the viewing couch.

“And this just proves how much you need me, because that-“ Sing watched in the mirror as Yut-Lung looked him up and down as if the suit had personally insulted him. “is hideous.”

Sing frowned, turning away from the mirror and towards Yut-Lung, who was lounging on the shop’s plush sofa and looking like he owned the place. He flicked his braid over his shoulder and sipped delicately at a flute of champagne, graciously provided by the shop staff upon his arrival. It wasn’t that often he drank anymore. There was a period of time when Sing genuinely forgot what Yut-Lung looked like without a raging hangover. Sing thought it could only be a good thing he was seemingly limiting his liquor. He used to drink wine like it was water. Despite his dry spell, Yut-Lung had insisted on a glass of bubbly today, forgoing his usual tea. When asked why, he would state that apparently shopping with Sing was, in his words, ‘like pulling teeth’.

Turning back to the mirror, Sing tugged down the sleeves of the jacket before reaching back up to fiddle with his collar. Was it too garish? He liked the suit at first, but now Yut-Lung had made him doubt himself.

“What’s wrong with it exactly? I thought you said maroon was my colour?” Behind him, Yut-Lung’s face morphed into a look of vague disgust. It was a look that made people feel like they were nothing but dirt under Lee Yut-Lung’s red bottomed shoes. Sing used to receive that look a lot before he knew Yut-Lung as well as he did.

“I absolutely said no such thing.”

“Yeah you did! You said just the other day.”

In many ways, the relationship Sing had built with Yut-Lung over the period of many years felt a little like the brotherhood neither of them had been given by their blood. Brothers that would look out for and help each other, but also not hesitate to dick each other over at the first opportunity. Sing hated to admit it, but he considered Yut-Lung a very dear friend now. It really was like they were adopted brothers.

“I can tell you I didn’t say that, because that maroon suit makes you look like you hawk fake Gucci in Bangkok.”

Actually, scrap that. Having Yut-Lung close to him now wasn’t like having a brother at all. It was like having a sister. A bitchy older sister. When Sing had first started to work for Yut-Lung when he was fourteen, it felt like some sort of hellish mashup between ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ and ‘Crazy Rich Asians’. Yut-Lung constantly ordered him around, picked on his fashion sense and spent money like it was water. But as time went on and Sing got older, he learned the method to Yut-Lung’s madness. He realised that he was using his intelligence to do some good and succeed in business.

Sing took another moment to look at himself in the mirror… _Shit_ ….Yut-Lung was right. The suit was hideous. After a moment’s consideration to mourn his pride, he finally relented and shrugged off the jacket. On the sofa, Yut-Lung smirked. A member of staff rushed over to take the jacket from Sing and hang it up neatly on a rail of other discarded suits. Yut-Lung gestured to the same member of staff.

“Bring me the charcoal. The three-piece Dormeuil. You know the one.” The woman bowed quickly before rushing off to find the suit Yut-Lung had requested, heels clicking quickly on the wooden floor. Sing hoped this one would be the last, but as he saw employees hurry around, his hope for a quick shopping trip began to fade. He should have known any shopping trip with Yut-Lung wouldn’t be quick. Sing made his way over to the couch and flopped down inelegantly. Yut-Lung frowned and kicked his long legs away from where they were intruding on his space.

It was no secret to anyone that Sing had had a growth spurt since his fourteen-year-old days. It was natural a teenage boy would grow, but Sing was ridiculously tall now. He also made an effort to work out at least four times a week at the boxing club. He found that it helped him get his mind off things. Sing smirked to himself recalling how devastated Yut-Lung had been when he finally outgrew him. Sing thought that Yut-Lung had not much changed on the outside. He was the same height he’d always known him to be, still as slender as ever, and still braided his long hair in the same way he did when he was sixteen. But Yut-Lung’s changes had all happened on the inside. His character and manner of being was so different it was hard to believe he was the same person he was all those years ago. He was calmer and more collected. He even had a kindness and gentleness about him. He was more aware of himself. Sing thought back to a time where he couldn’t imagine Yut-Lung to be a good guy. But here he was. Sitting in a stupidly expensive suit shop in Hong Kong, antagonising him like they were actually siblings. Yut-Lung had seen the error of his ways, and honestly, Sing was proud of him.

“Remind me why I agreed to bring you along? I’m sick of trying stuff on already.” Yut-Lung placed his glass down on the adjourning table and rested his chin on his palm. 

“Because you’re the one that wanted to go to this vow renewal, and you can’t turn up looking like you’re going to a funeral.” Around them, the tailors were still pulling suits in Sing’s size. Too many in Sing’s opinion. He groaned internally at the mere thought of trying all of them on. Yut-Lung peered at Sing from the corner of his eye.

“What’s the point of a vow renewal anyway? They got married, why waste the time to do it again?” Yut-Lung asked snidely, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. Sing shrugged.

“It’s romantic, I guess. Another chance to publicly declare your love for each other. Max and Jessica wanted to celebrate with all of us.” Yut-Lung rolled his eyes.

“It’s cute when two ugly people find love.”

“Oh? Who’s the lucky guy then?” Sing sensed the incoming punch to his arm a mile away.

“ 猪头” _Pig head._

Sing chuckled to himself at seeing the staff whip around at the insult, outraged looks on their faces. He and Yut-Lung spoke English to each other for privacy when they were in Hong Kong. Perhaps the staff assumed they were talking about business, only to be strangely shocked when nasty profanity came out of the infamously elegant and sophisticated Lee Yut-Lung’s mouth. Especially profanity directed towards a business partner. Little did they know that Yut-lung had been calling him names for years. In truth, he gave as good as he got. They had both collated many rude names for each other in a colourful multitude of different languages.

In his pocket, Sing’s phone began to vibrate against his leg. He shifted uncomfortably as he fished it out. Next to him, Yut-Lung tried to peer at his screen.

“Anything important?” He asked.

“You’re so nosy! For your information, it’s my hot date for tonight.” Yut-Lung scoffed, looking vaguely amused.

“Come off it. There’s no one with low enough standards in Hong Kong. You speak Cantonese like a child.” Sing elbowed him.

“Fuck off. I’m working on it!” Sing quickly scanned over the email. Being in business gave him a great ability at speed reading and determining the importance of any email he received. Sing had learned that just because something was marked ‘URGENT’, doesn’t mean it actually was. At a glance, he knew it wasn’t important. He rolled his eyes and deleted it.

“It’s just some documentary crew wanting an interview about Max’s book.”

Yut-Lung’s expression suddenly turned a little sour, a guarded air coming off him in a wave.

“I get those too. Always the same questions as well. Besides, I didn’t even like the book.” Sing had thought that much was obvious.

“That’s because you were the bad guy. You’re lucky you’re even allowed back in the States after it was published.” Yut-Lung didn’t seem bothered in the least.

“I neither developed, bought or sold banana fish. And as far as the US Senate is concerned, my brothers were killed by the Vietnamese. Besides, it should be Max that should be concerned about his place in the States. He calls himself an author but he’s more of a whistleblower than anything else.”

A pregnant pause passed between the pair.

“Soo-Ling?” _That_ grabbed Sing’s attention. It was odd. Yut-Lung never called him by his given name.

“Yes?”

“Is Eiji okay?”

Sing’s chest tightened. He sighed, but it gave him no relief. He knew immediately this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“He’s doing as well as he can be.” Yut-Lung looked away, but Sing felt the need to follow up. Honestly, he’d been a little curious. “He tells me that every month he gets a ton of money in his account from an anonymous source with the reference ‘compensation’.” Yut-Lung still refused to look his way, instead picking up his flute of champagne and swirling it around like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Whether it was out of shame or embarrassment, Sing didn’t know. Yut-lung had never been an easy man to read. Sing wasn’t going to judge him. At least he hoped Yut-Lung didn’t think he was judging him. Sing’s expression softened.

“You know… he’s forgiven you. You don’t have to hide from him. Actually, I think he’ll be quite happy to see you.” The admission only earned him an indignant and somewhat disbelieving scoff.

“How could he? I took the only person he’d ever loved away from him. He may say he’s forgiven me, but wounds of the heart cause scars that can never fade.” He paused, and bitterness overtook the look in his eyes. “And now this damn book has solidified me in history as the monster who killed Ash Lynx because I was a jealous _child_.” Sing blinked a few times in disbelief before shaking his head with vigour.

“You’re wrong.” Yut-Lung whipped around aggressively. Like a viper going in for attack. His brow furrowed in obvious frustration.

“Really, Sing!? I believe the quote was on page 407: ‘due to the manipulation of Lee Yut-Lung exploiting the inner conflicts of the Chinese gangs over the death of former leader Li-Quang Wong (known as Shorter Wong), Ash Lynx was able to be assassinated by Lao Yen-Tai with a knife to the abdomen, missing all his vital organs. His death was likely slow and painful.’ How does Eiji Okumura read that and be able to forgive me!?” Sing watched as Yut-Lung’s eyes filled with unresolved pain and his voice began to tremble. Sing spared a glance around them. Employees of the store were trying not to watch. The infamous Lee Yut-Lung did not lose face in front of strangers.

Sing felt sorry for Yut-Lung in that moment. A book had been written that everyone was reading, and it just so happened to document the darkest time in his life. Solidifying his mistakes in ink and paper. But Sing had read the book. Many times, in fact. He knew Yut-Lung was missing something. Then it dawned on him.

“Yut-Lung… you didn’t read the whole book, did you?” 

“What more is there to say!?” he snapped back.

Sing’s suspicions were confirmed, and he quickly pulled out his phone again. Yut-Lung watched him carefully.

“What are you doing?” Sing held up a finger to stop him from saying anything further, and Yut-Lung slapped his hand away. 

“Ah, here it is.”

“What?”

“On the downloadable version of the book. Page 408.” Sing held it out to Yut-Lung, who looked at it as though it would bite him. Sing pushed it further towards him before Yut-Lung tentatively took it. “Read it out.” Sing encouraged gently.

Yut-Lung swallowed, gathering himself before he spoke.

“’Despite Lee Yut-Lung’s manipulation of schisms within the Chinese mafia, there can be a great deal to be observed that attests to a certain degree of innocence. Many people recounted the similarities between Ash Lynx and Lee Yut-Lung when they were pitted against each other. Whether it be intelligence or deadly instincts. However, what most forgot in this comparison, was the significance of their shared experience of childhood exploitation and abuse. Lee Yut-Lung, the only surviving brother of the Lee family, was as much a victim of his brother’s manipulation as Ash Lynx was to Dino Golzine. While his actions in relation to Lynx’s death were reprehensible, they were understandable to ensure his survival. Lee Yut-Lung, while the villain of Ash’s story, is ultimately a victim, and should have been treated as such from the beginning.’”

Yut-Lung’s expression went through a range of emotions. Anger, sadness, something unidentifiable. Then it became unreadable. His face was perfectly neutral. Obviously Max’s words had come as a bit of a shock. Sing wasn’t going to mock him. He approached the topic carefully.

“See. Max wasn’t making you out to be the bad guy that murdered Ash Lynx. Thanks to him, the whole world knows that your brothers forced you into many things you would otherwise not have done.”

“No one forced me to manipulate Lao, or try to have Eiji killed.” Yut-Lung spoke so softly it almost came out as a whisper. Sing swallowed hard.

“No. That was on you. But if you had grown up differently, been treated with love and kindness, or even had one person to stick with you, it would have been different. I had my brother and Cain. Ash had Eiji and Shorter. You only had brothers who used you for their personal gain. You never knew anything of love or friendship, Yut-Lung, and that was not your fault.”

Yut-Lung stiffened and looked down into his lap. Sing could tell he was biting back a flood of emotion. He had always been emotional under his exterior. Any other day, Sing would have called him girly. But not today. Yut-Lung steadied himself.

“That was before you gave me a chance, Sing. For that, I’ll be forever in your debt.” Sing smiled gently.

“Talk to Eiji. Let us support you. I promise you that he doesn’t hate you. He knows you and Ash only acted in a way that ensured your survival against truly evil people like Golzine and your brothers. He knows how cruel it was. It’s about time you two cleared the air. Believe me, you’ll feel a lot better after you say sorry for real.”

“After all these years? After I took Ash away from him?” Sing nodded.

“Yes. I think you both need the catharsis. There’s a lot that’s going unsaid between you that needs to be in the open.” Yut-Lung thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Okay. I’ll call him.”

Sing grinned. Then he plucked Yut-Lung’s champagne from his fingers and knocked it back in one swift gulp.

“Hey! I was drinking that!” Sing gave him back the empty glass and coughed.

“Whatever. I need it more than you. I’ve seen how many other suits they have lined up for me.” Yut-Lung stood up and placed the glass down.

“No. I have just one more. It’ll be the one.” Yut-Lung walked over to a member of staff, who lowered their gaze when he approached. Yut-Lung took a waistcoat from the hanger they were holding.

Sing held out his arms as Yut-Lung slipped the waistcoat over his shoulders. Sing buttoned it and turned back to the mirror. The waistcoat was tasteful and fit him like a glove. It seemed to broaden his shoulders and narrow his waist all at once. He looked _good._

“Checking yourself out already? Told you that you needed me.” Sing tried to ignore him. Yut-Lung’s mouth widened into a shit-eating grin.

“Say it. Say I was right. You needed me here.” Sing crossed his arms.

“Never.”

“Say it.”

“No!”

In the end, Sing bought the suit Yut-Lung had chosen, and also extended an invite to Michael’s performance of ‘The Nutcracker’ in a few weeks. Yut-Lung took him up on the offer… but only when he was promised a private box.

That night, Yut-Lung settled for the evening at his house in Victoria Peak. He was nervous, but Sing was right. He had to do this. He picked up his phone beside him.

_Calling Eiji Okumura…_

_Connecting…_

0:00

“Hello?”


	3. Eiji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiji spends some time in his memories as he does his Christmas shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't been able to update very often! Ever since work came online, I've been very busy. This chapter may feel a little rushed, but I really wanted to get it out before the holidays.
> 
> Speaking of holidays!
> 
> We celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah in my household, so Merry Christmas and Hanukkah Sameach to you all! No matter your circumstances this holiday season, I wish you all every peace and happiness. Remember that even though times are tough, you're never alone. xx
> 
> Slight warning: some discussion of trauma, and the bad language of 'Fairytale of New York'.
> 
> Please Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer in Chapter 1.

New York at Christmas time was seen by the world as magical, and Eiji supposed that in a lot of ways it was. Everywhere he looked, lights twinkled around shop displays and restaurants. Music played in the streets and everybody knew the words. Children and adults alike were in the festive spirit. In a way, it was a kind of magic. Eiji himself felt quite festive after what seemed like a long, long year.

He let out a small squeak when someone barged his shoulder as they ran past.

There, he found, was the downside of Christmas in New York. The Christmas that you only got to experience if you lived there. The magic very quickly started to fade as Eiji elbowed his way down crowded streets. There were tourists as far as the eye could see. Stopping in inconvenient places to take selfies, or checking their phone maps right in the flow of foot traffic. On top of all that, add on the people like Eiji himself who had left their Christmas shopping to the last possible minute. He didn’t particularly consider himself a procrastinator. Or at least he didn’t at any other time of year. But there was something about Christmas that just seemed to creep up on him every time. One moment he thinks there’s weeks until the day, and suddenly it was December 24th and he has nothing.

He hadn’t left it quite that late this year, but he was definitely pushing his luck and paying the price for it. He had been in somewhat of a daze recently. In the past week, he was interviewed by the documentary crew, and the questions had brought back so many memories. Eiji was constantly reminding himself that the world would see him. The documentary was premiering on all the biggest streaming sites. He and Max had spent a lot of time preparing a selection of photographs that would be okay to use in the documentary. Afterwards, Eiji was emotionally drained. And just when he thought he would get a moment’s peace, he moved a stack of photo albums, and underneath them, he found both his ticket to the New York City Ballet’s rendition of ‘The Nutcracker’ and an invitation to the vow renewal of Max and Jessica Glenreed. After all the support Max, Jessica and Michael have given him this year, it wouldn’t sit right with his conscience to not get them anything.

Thus, here he was, slithering through crowds of people and bundled up so warm he was actually starting to sweat a little under all the layers. He was heading to the department store to see what he could find. The outside of the building was decorated head to toe in silvery lights. Each window display was lovingly put together in shades of red and green. Inside wasn’t much different. Everywhere Eiji looked, huge Christmas trees were draped in baubles and tinsel and customer service representatives were looking vastly underwhelmed in their seasonal elf-inspired getups.

Eiji took the time to carefully edge around a group of friends arguing over their secret santa spending limit. When he got to a small, unoccupied corner of the store, he took a moment just to look around him. It was a skill he had developed as a photographer. Capturing people in their everyday lives lends a certain intimacy into their day to day comings and goings.

From where he was standing, he could see a tired looking mother trying to console her child, for whom the day had just become all a little bit too much. He could also see a businessman on the phone. Eiji chuckled. He had obviously been sent out by his wife to do the shopping. He wandered around with an obvious expression of dumbfounded helplessness plastered all over his face.

A voice inside Eiji told him that he should have brought his camera. There was so much excitement and yet so much stress. So much going on all at once. The people of the city preparing for a whole few days of spending time with their loved ones.

Eiji shook himself. He seemed to forget he was also on a bit of a mission. He continued to wander for another few minutes before he spied a trendy looking bag hanging on the wall.

It was a good size, and looked like it was made of durable stuff. Gosh, he was turning into Jessica. Whenever she bought anything, she would always bombard the staff with a whole host of questions. Was it durable? Waterproof? Have you got room to move? Will you use it? Eiji must have picked up her habits.

Eiji’s immediate thoughts went to answer all of those questions. Michael could keep his shoes and ballet clothes in the bag. Eiji knew for a fact his current one had holes in it and stinks so badly Jessica has banned it from any part of their house that wasn’t the hallway. Michael keeps telling her that he’ll buy a new one. Eiji smirked at the memory. He remembered being Michael’s age and having his gym bag smell startlingly similar. He had also promised his parents he would clean it. He never did. Now, here he was being Michael’s ‘Uncle Eiji’ and buying him things he thought he’d need.

It was at that moment that Eiji was overcome with a wave of nostalgia. Or at least it felt like nostalgia. He supposed nostalgia for something you never had didn’t really count.

Suddenly, in the swathes and swathes of people… he felt very alone.

He took another moment to simply observe his surroundings. Where before, he had seen the story of everyone’s activities, now he only saw their connections. Everyone seemed to be with someone. Mothers and fathers running around fondly with their children. Friends laughed merrily amongst themselves.

Couples held hands and shared the joy of the season as a pair.

Eiji was happy for them. He really was. But still, his heart felt heavy. He could almost feel a ghostly arm around his shoulder. A phantom kiss on his lips.

Eiji felt distant. Physically, he was present, and he knew he was. But his mind was floating in the space of nothingness somewhere outside the plains of his body. He took a moment to compose himself. He had been attending therapy at intervals throughout the year, and learning some more effective ways to ground himself when moments like this came. For Eiji, it was memorising the train route from his home to his studio. All the stops and the street names to get there.

Eiji ran through the journey in his mind, and began to connect himself back to the physical world. Still, his heart ached. His therapist had told him that survivors of trauma often felt guilt at being alive. It was normal.

Eiji took a few deep breaths before telling himself that he was okay. And also taking the time to privately acknowledge what he was feeling.

_It’s okay to be sad that he isn’t here._

After a few more moments, he was feeling better. Not a hundred percent, but better.

He picked the satchel up off the display and made his way to the tills to pay. That was at least one thing out of the way for Christmas. Looking around, he could see many other possibilities for gifts for other people. A new journal for Max, a necklace for Jessica, perhaps even a pair of new cufflinks for Soo-Ling.

Eiji stopped to glance over the jewellery, thinking it might be a nice present for the vow renewal, and amongst the hustle and bustle, he heard a hushed exchange.

“Is that really him?”

“Yeah definitely. I saw him on the news, I’m sure.”

Eiji took the chance to peek at the faces matching the voices. They were definitely staring. Eiji tried to stop his anxiety from taking hold. It was a little unnerving, but a hushed conversation wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in the few weeks after the book was released. Eiji thought he would be prepared for the fact he’d be recognised after Max’s book, but not quite like this. He tried to focus again. He tried to turn his attention to the advertising image in front of the display. The woman had dark skin, a silver necklace, textured hair. Why was this so familiar?

Eiji would kick himself when he realised that it was familiar because he had shot the image. Bulgari had seen his work in Vogue and asked him to photograph for their new collection.

“Wasn’t he the widow of As-“ Eiji felt the eyes on him. Stronger this time. He felt his heartbeat pick up.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to hide.

He -

_It was Christmas eve, babe. In the drunk tank._

A song came over the tannoy.

Not just any song. _That_ song.

The memory of when he had first heard it began to resurface from where Eiji had buried it many years ago. This time, instead of trying his hardest to ignore it, he allowed the memory to embrace him. To take him back many years ago.

The Chang Dai. Nadia… Shorter…

Ash.

_In his hands, Shorter held the letter as if it would bite him._

_“Mr. Wong, Li-Quang..” Shorter paused to squint at the following word, as if doing so would make him understand it any better. “Is-queer?”_

_Ash and Eiji shot a confused look at one another from where they were sitting. Ash hopped off the counter to snatch the letter from Shorter’s hands. Shorter immediately tried to swipe it back off him._

_“Oi! Meddling with mail is a federal offence, I’ll have you know!” Ash held the letter out of his reach and shoved Shorter away with a grin. He glanced down at the letter and his lips upturned in a catlike smirk._

_“You know what should be an offence? The fact that you can’t read the word ‘esquire’.” Shorter pouted like a child and snatched the letter back. Ash and Eiji laughed loudly at his expense._

_“Not all of us got a fancy- schmancy education you know! Some of us actually work!” Ash sat himself back on the counter, taking a moment to shoot Eiji a little wink, indicating that all the teasing was done in good faith. Ash knew Eiji sometimes worried about whether or not their teasing was always joking._

_From his place leaning against the counter, Shorter sighed and scratched his head._

_“I knew anything that came in a brown envelope with the word ‘esquire’ on it was bad news. Bank man is catching up to us.” It didn’t take much for Eiji to sense the anxiety radiating off Shorter. Eiji didn’t know his situation all that well, but he did know that he sent Nadia back money to keep the restaurant afloat. With everything happening between the gangs in New York, people were too afraid to come to Chinatown. Business hadn’t exactly been booming. Money was tight for the Wong family, and without their parents, the burden of providing for his sister fell on Shorter’s shoulders. It couldn’t have been nice on Nadia either._

_It seemed Ash could also sense the dampening mood._

_“We’ll get through it, buddy. I know it’s not traditional Christmas food, but I can have my guys help out if you need it.” Shorter looked uncomfortable at the insinuation._

_“I can’t accept that, Ash. I won’t be a burden.”_

_Eiji could see that Ash was internally rolling his eyes, but Eiji understood. It wasn’t something Ash could sympathise with. It was part of a lot of cultures, including his own, that one shouldn’t lose face in front of others. Sometimes Eiji thought he knew better than anyone else how being a burden felt._

_But, he supposed, being in America has opened his mind to a lot of new things. Some good, some not so good. Rising from his seat at a nearby table, Eiji took the letter from Shorter and placed it gently on the counter._

_“I understand what you’re saying, but a problem shared is a problem halved. I think that’s the saying?”Ash perked up and patted Shorter on the shoulder firmly._

_“Yeah, exactly. I’ll get my guys eating here every day if I have to. Chinese food for Christmas doesn’t sound bad at all! Besides, it’ll help Eiji’s English!” Shorter’s face broke into a smile and began to chuckle as Eiji playfully swatted at Ash._

_“And how many other languages do you speak!?” Shorter smiled wider at the playful pokes between the pair._

_“English, French, Greek, Latin, and some Russian to top it off.” Ash batted Eiji’s hands away and looked like the cat that got the cream. Eiji huffed. Of course he spoke more languages than he did._

_He supposed that if he was going to take a joke at his own expense, he may as well spend some time getting Ash back._

_“Wow! Have I really met a smart American!? I thought they didn’t exist!” Shorter threw an arm around Ash’s shoulder._

_“He’s too damn smart for his own good. I speak three languages and sometimes forget all of them!”_

_Shorter wound his arm around Ash’s neck and dragged him down into a headlock._

_“You got anything in that head of yours, pretty boy!? Huh!?” Eiji watched Ash grin under Shorter’s arm as he began to poke his friend in the ribs, making Shorter squirm._

_“Get off you brute! I’m delicate!”_

_“Delicate my ass!”_

_Eiji can’t remember a time they’d all laughed so much._

_The radio, which had been playing carols non-stop all day was suddenly turned up. Nadia called from the kitchen._

_“Boys, it’s your song!” Ash and Shorter immediately stopped roughhousing to whip around and stare at each other. Grins were plastered wide on their faces. Eiji was a little taken aback._

_“What? What is it?” A beat of silence passed before Ash and Shorter’s mouths dropped open. If Eiji didn’t feel so scrutinised, it would have been quite funny._

_“You don’t know Fairytale of New York!? It’s like, the best Christmas song ever!”Shorter ran round the counter to pick up a pair of spoons from the cutlery rack. Eiji watched him as if he’d grown two heads._

_“Fairytale what?” Ash shook his head, and turned round to catch the spoon that Shorter threw to him._

_“It’s an integral song to western culture!” Eiji furrowed his brow. Unconvinced._

_“Like… a traditional song?”Ash ruffled his hair and grinned._

_“I guess you could call it that! Luckily for you, Shorter and I are here to provide you with the best rendition!”_

_Shorter grinned widely, vaulting over the counter and comfortably throwing an arm around Ash’s shoulder again. Together, they made their way to the centre of the dining area, which had been decorated in tinsel for the Christmas season._

_“We’ve been singing this song every Christmas since we were in juvie!” Ash confidently twiddled his spoon in his fingers. “Besides, what does Shane MacGowan have that we don’t?” Shorter shrugged._

_“Terrible teeth?”Eiji was so confused. The song had already started but they weren’t singing. Shorter turned to Ash and gave a dramatic bow. “After you good Sir!”_

_Eiji listened as the song wound up. It was a jovial tune, and one he could imagine lots of people singing to. Ash then took a deep breath and pointed accusatorily at Shorter as he sang into his spoon like it was a microphone._

_“You’re a bum, you’re a punk!” Shorter sang back._

_“You’re an old slut on junk!” Eiji’s expression morphed into one of shock. This was a traditional song? He thought Christmas was a time for spreading cheer and wishing people well._

_“Why are you insulting each other!? I thought Christmas was about being friendly!” Ash shouted over the racket of the chorus._

_“Because Christmas is about having fun with your friends, and sometimes your friends are assholes!” Strange Americans. Eiji thought. “It’s fun, Eiji! You should try. Watch this!” Ash brought the microphone back up to sing into it._

_“You scumbag, you maggot!” Shorter sang back in response._

_“You cheap, lousy faggot!” Both of them sang the next part together._

_“Merry Christmas your arse and thank God it’s our last!”_

_The pair of them were acting like lunatics. Strange, wonderful lunatics. And in all Eiji’s confusion, he began to laugh with them. Laugh and laugh and laugh. Soon enough, it became contagious. The three of them were absolutely howling. So much so that Nadia came into the dining room to see what the commotion was about._

_“What’s so funny?” She asked, a small smile on her lips._

_“We were showing Eiji the magic of ‘Fairytale of New York’, Nadia!” Ash said between chuckles. Nadia rolled her eyes fondly._

_“Poor Eiji.” Shorter shook his head, wiping away a tear._

_“You’re stuck with us now, Eiji! That means you’re going to have to insult us every Christmas!”_

_All three of them continued to laugh and sing long into the night._

_In that moment, the brown envelope on the table was forgotten._

By the time Eiji led himself away from the memory, he must have been standing motionless for a good few minutes just lost in his own mind. He had been so afraid of letting himself relive that happy moment. So ridden with guilt at his own survival that he thought all memories of the three of them enjoying a rare moment of joy was like rubbing it in that he was the only one left alive. But now he’d let himself embrace that memory, it was sweet. He had been depriving himself of remembering them as happy and vibrant people. He was only torturing himself by picturing them in their final moments.

His heart would hold those memories dear. Keep them for the rainy day when everything felt too much. Like the world was too wide without them to fill the void between him and those he kept at a distance. But, Eiji thought, that wasn’t so true anymore. The Glenreed family had taken him in as one of their own. Their son called him ‘uncle’. Soo-Ling and the Chinese rallied around him in his time of need. Cain called regularly to check in on him. Every one of them filled the gaps Ash and Shorter left behind.

Eiji wasn’t alone.

In a way, he thought, that while the book release was hard on him at first, it had paved the way for things to slot together.

The truth about Banana Fish was out. The people knew. Eiji could finally tell everyone about the real Ash Lynx. Other loose ends were being tied off.

Eiji almost fell out of his chair the other night when he received a call from an unknown number. He had expected it to be Blanca. He called every once in a while for a catch up. Eiji thought that perhaps he could have been lonely… but it wasn’t Blanca.

It was Yut-Lung.

Yut-Lung calling to apologise. 

Eiji would be lying if he said it hadn’t been awkward. It was. Neither of them knew quite what to say. The past lingered in the space between their phones. Between the thousands of miles between New York and Hong Kong. Yut-Lung was wary, and Eiji told him it would take time for him to heal. But, more than anything, it had been a start. He told Yut-Lung he forgave him, and he (and Yut-Lung, he thought) felt a weight being released from their shoulders. He still received money every month from the Lee corporation to compensate his loss. But Yut-Lung had extended the olive branch, and Eiji was grateful.

He smiled. ‘Fairytale of New York’ was still playing over the tannoy.

Eiji paid for the satchel for Michael, and despite the crowded streets and cold weather, he decided to go on a walk.

A walk to the New York Public Library.

He stared up at the huge doors towering over him. His chest ached. He felt a little sick. He remembered something Blanca had told him a few months ago.

_Just because you’re getting over him, doesn’t mean you’re forgetting him._

Eiji swallowed. He couldn’t go in. Not yet. Maybe in a few years. And that was okay.

But there, as he stood outside the place where Ash’s life had ended, he decided that he would live his life to the absolute fullest. Until their souls were reunited, he would live for the both of them. He would see all of Michael’s performances like he would have. He would celebrate Chinese New Year with Soo-Ling the same way Shorter would. He would talk about books with Blanca. He would visit Cain in his office. Perhaps he’d even play chess with Yut-Lung one day, even though he knows he’d lose every game.

He promised Ash his soul. He promised Shorter his loyalty. So until they met again, he’d keep his promise.


	4. Alex, Kong, Bones, Nadia and Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, Kong and Bones welcome a new arrival at the Chang Dai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm very aware that the quality of my writing is decreasing as the chapters go on, but I really hope that you can enjoy it regardless!
> 
> I wanted this chapter to be a little more lighthearted. I hope all of you reading are in good health, and I hope your loved ones are well! If anyone ever needs some conversation or anything, please don't be afraid to come and have a chat! I'm on Tumblr under the same name. :D We'll all get through this together! 
> 
> Disclaimer in Chapter 1. 
> 
> Enjoy :D

“Sixty-four!?” Bones’ jaw dropped open and he gestured incredulously towards his laptop, as if it had personally given him the mark itself. The air around him stunk of outrage and disbelief. “I worked on that assignment for three weeks and all I got was a sixty-four!?” From the other sofa, Kong hauled himself up to peek over at him sympathetically. When he saw how upset Bones was, he got up and pressed a comforting hand to his shoulder. A small smile played on his lips. Bones was grateful. He knew Kong wouldn’t move from his reality TV watching if it were anything less important.

“Hey. You passed, didn’t you?” Kong ruffled Bones’ scraggly hair. He needed to re-dye it. His blond roots were starting to show through. Bones deflated a little in response.

“Well yeah, but- Ow!” He rubbed his head from where Kong had playfully swatted him. Kong ambled back over to the other sofa where he practically threw himself down onto it, turning his attention back to the Real Housewives of something or other.

“If you passed, then you can quit your moaning. I bet you’d rather a sixty-four than a resit.”

Bones supposed that was technically true. He really didn’t want to spend his summer slaving away over a desk. He looked back down at his sixty-four and sighed. A pass was a pass. He closed his laptop and glanced over to Kong; who’s eyes were locked on the TV.

“I just really wanna graduate okay, y’know. I didn’t think culinary school would have all this fancy writin’ business.” Kong chuckled fondly. 

“Stop worrying so much! You’ll do fine. We’re all doing good.” He then stretched his arms out over his head. It looked a little comical with his limbs extending beyond the tiny sofa. Bones could just about see the smile on his face. “Then afterwards we open our restaurant, get ten thousand Michelin stars –“ Bones laughed loudly.

“And move into Madison Park!” Kong began to laugh with him.

“That’s the spirit!”

Bones set his laptop on the small coffee table. It only had three legs, but they’d propped up the other corner with a stack of loo rolls. Only problem was, when they started to use them the table would start to tip ever so slightly.

“Want a coffee?” Bones asked.

“You know how I like it.” Kong replied. Bones made his way about three steps to the kitchenette to put more water in the coffee machine. He thought about how nice it was to joke around about the future like that. How they could now dare to hope and think about a better life after everything they had been through. How maybe Bones wasn’t as dumb as he first thought, and life had given him a second chance to finally make something of himself.

His mental monologue ended when the bathroom door slammed open. Bones and Kong jumped in fright.

“Jesus wept, Alex! What did the door ever do to you!?” As soon as they saw Alex, Kong and Bones knew they’d fucked up somehow. He looked furious, dripping hair plastered to his head and only a small towel covering his dignity.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to turn the taps on while someone is in the shower!?” Kong and Bones frowned. Whoops. He had told them that quite a few times. Bones looked at him sheepishly.

“Sorry, Alex. I forgot again.” Alex sighed in irritation and plopped himself down next to Kong, towel precariously draped over his lap.

“How is it you dummies can manage the stress of a professional kitchen, but as soon as we’re at home you’re all outta brains?” Kong smirked.

“I guess we just tune you out now, Alex.” Bones snickered.

“Yeah, you bitch at us so often we don’t hear you no more!”

Alex rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the upturn of his lips. The three of them had been on quite the journey. For all the new friends and allies they had made along the way, they had each decided that they’d seen enough bloodshed and violence for a lifetime. After everything was said and done, Alex, Kong and Bones decided that it was time to go and do something useful. Earn an honest living. Within a year, they had all applied and gotten into the same culinary school. At first, they were endlessly worried about their fees. But their saving grace came in the form of Ash Lynx’s last will and testament, in which he left some of the money from GOOSE to aid with their futures. The money that Ash Lynx had set aside just for them readily paid their fees. Not only _their_ fees as well. Alex, Kong and Bones had spent hours each night revising with Cain for his LSAT exam. They all cried with joy when Cain had called them to say he had passed. Now, he was a qualified lawyer. And a damn good one if rumours were to be believed.

However, even with Ash’s monetary gift, the rent was so high in New York they ended up splitting three ways on a crappy apartment while they attended school in the city. After graduation, they had big dreams of opening their very own restaurant.

Alex grabbed the remote from Kong and wasted no time in flicking the TV over to the news channel.

“Oi! I was watching that!” Kong leaned over to make a swipe for the remote, but Alex held it just out of his arm’s reach.

“It’s one o’clock, I’m watching the news. You can have it back later.” Kong pouted. On screen, the broadcaster chatted away for a few minutes until they cut to an interviewer, and there beside them, stood none other than Sing Soo-Ling.

“Hey look! Soo-Ling’s on the TV!” Suddenly, the news had everyone’s undivided attention. They all sat forward and watched the interview with apt interest.

The reporter was dressed warmly, and beside her, Sing was also bundled up against the harsh winter weather. It looked like they had just caught him on the street and asked for an impromptu interview. The interviewer turned towards Sing to ask their first question.

“Mr. Sing, you feature prominently in the book. Could you tell us what it’s like to have the sheer magnitude of this scandal unveiled to the public?” Sing swallowed as he took in the question. The look on his face said that he was trying to find a diplomatic answer. When he spoke, he did so with an eloquence that was acquired over many years that was not present in his youth.

“It’s both a blessing and a curse. The people deserved to know the truth, but for those who were involved in the scandal against their will, it may unearth many unpleasant memories.”

Kong sighed.

“He’s right, you know.” The mood of the room turned melancholic. So many nights the three of them had been woken by nightmares. Nightmares of Shorter, nightmares of Foxx, nightmares of Ash. Sometimes they each found themselves wishing for what could have been had Banana Fish never existed. Bones began to fiddle with a loose thread on the couch.

“Yeah… my heart aches every time we see Eiji. He just hasn’t been himself since –“ Alex, sensing the downward mood, cut in.

“I know it’s hard. But he is getting better. Remember how he was last year? He’s come a long way since then. Soo-Ling too.” Kong could see Bones getting upset. He understood how he felt. Alex had always been the sensible one of the three of them. Kong and Bones had no trouble admitting they would both cry at the drop of a hat. Kong got up to sit beside Bones and pat his shoulder to comfort him. Alex joined him.

“Alex is right. Everyone’s doing a lot better. We gotta be happy for them. Okay?” Bones, reassured by his friends, blinked away some tears.

“Okay. Yeah. You’re right.” They sat like that for a few more minutes, watching the rest of Sing’s interview and trying to force themselves to remember the good times.

The shrill ringing of Alex’s work phone brought them back to themselves. Alex immediately scrambled to get up, not wanting to miss any important updates. However, as he lunged for the phone, his towel dropped from his narrow hips. Kong and Bones shrieked and covered their eyes with a shout.

“Alex! Put it away!” Alex hastily grabbed the phone from his jacket pocket, and blushed when Kong threw him the towel to preserve his modesty.

“Hello?”

Alex spoke on the phone for only a minute max, and Kong and Bones leaned forwards in anticipation when his voice began to pick up, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. Kong and Bones could sense the anticipation before they even knew the news. They just knew it was something good. When Alex put the phone down, he immediately ran to pull a pair of his underwear off the dryer.

“So? Who was it?” Bones asked eagerly. Alex beamed from ear to ear.

“It was Nadia. We can go and meet the baby!” Kong and Bones both gasped loudly. They promptly leapt off the couch to find warm clothes to go out in. The excitement in the room had increased tenfold.

“Are you serious!? Where’s my good shirt!?” The three of them rushed around like headless chickens as they got ready. Kong only just managed to grab a set of keys before they were rushing out the door and running full speed towards Chinatown.

The way to the Chang Dai was hardly new to them. In fact, Bones had bet one day that he could make the journey with his eyes closed. For their college culinary course, they were required to complete a semester in industry, and Nadia had been more than happy to take the three of them on as extra help, especially during her pregnancy. The further along she got, the more valuable Alex, Kong and Bones became as her feet ached more and more and her hips hurt. They did various jobs around the restaurant, such as making bao dough and steaming rice. They also cooked soup for the community drive nights where anyone could come to the restaurant and have some free soup on the house. All of it was in aid of battling New York food insecurity, with the program being set up by Cain and the charity he founded.

Tonight was the community night, and Alex, Kong and Bones’ shift wasn’t until seven, but they simply couldn’t wait to see the new arrival. The years of hardships and loss meant they had become like family to Nadia and Charlie, who had married a couple of years ago.

They ran down the streets of New York looking like absolute lunatics, until the familiar sights and sounds of Chinatown met their eyes and ears.

“Hey! Wait up!” Kong huffed, jogging just behind Bones and Alex. They practically skidded around the corner to where the Chang Dai stood proudly. The Chang Dai was about the only thing that hadn’t changed over the years. Every table, chair and lazy Susan was the same. Even the broken neon sign outside stubbornly refused to be fixed. The restaurant had a queue outside, with people waiting for their famed free soup.

Alex politely made his way through the crowds with various apologies to the people he was shuffling out the way, Kong and Bones following behind him. Alex threw the door open, eyes immediately scanning the restaurant for the people he was looking for. At the counter, Charlie stood before an enormous pot of wonderfully smelling soup, handing out bowls and giving ladles to the hungry customers. The customers each thanked him, and Charlie would reply with an enthusiastic ‘Mm goi’ in a terrible accent. But those receiving the soup never corrected him. It was the thought that counted. He spied Alex, Kong and Bones from across the restaurant and his face lit up. He excused himself and gave the ladle to another volunteer for a moment.

“Hey guys!” Charlie took a minute to embrace the three of them tightly. He looked exhausted, but somehow content all at the same time.

“Congrats, Daddy-o! You must be so excited!” Bones grinned from ear to ear.

“It’s been a long 48 hours, I’ll tell you that!” Charlie laughed in response. It seemed that his newfound fatherhood still had yet to sink in. Kong looked around eagerly.

“Where’s the baby? Was it a girl or a boy?”

“A little girl.” The voice came from the kitchen. Leaning against the doorframe, a very tired looking Nadia shuffled forwards, and in her arms, she held a bundle of blankets. Nadia winced a little as she walked, obviously still recovering. Alex and Bones immediately came forward to help guide Nadia to sit down at a booth near the window. Charlie pulled up a chair and joined them.

Alex, Kong and Bones eagerly crowded around Nadia and took a peek into the little bundle she was holding. And there, a pair of eyes looked back up at them. Beautiful almond shaped brown eyes, soft tan skin and light brown hair. Despite being Charlie’s daughter, she was absolutely the spitting image of her mother. Neither Kong, Bones nor Alex could breathe, they just looked down at the baby in awe. Nadia smiled softly at them.

“Do you want to hold her?” She asked. Kong couldn’t speak, he gave only an enthusiastic nod. He sat down comfortably as Nadia passed him the baby, ensuring he supported her head, and she was comfortable.

As soon as the little girl blinked up at him, Kong could feel his eyes begin to well. Bones shook his head fondly at his friend.

“You big softie, you!” Kong ever so gently rocked her back and forth, and the baby smiled. That was it. He was blubbing.  
“I can’t help it, man, she’s so beautiful!” Nadia patted his shoulder with a chuckle.

“What’s her name?” Bones asked. Nadia smiled softly.

“Her Chinese name is Yu Yuan, and her English name is Esther, after Charlie’s late grandmother.” Beside her, Charlie positively beamed with pride, heart melting at finally being able to introduce his daughter to their friends.

Alex dragged up a chair to sit opposite Nadia.

“When did you go into labour? I thought you weren’t due for another week!” He exclaimed, as he reached over to stroke the baby’s tuft of hair. Charlie rested a hand on Nadia’s shoulder fondly as she spoke.

“We were in Williamsburg with Charlie’s family for Hannukah and my contractions started before I could even eat a Sufganiyot.” She chuckled. Alex laughed.   
“Bet that must have been a bit of a shock for you, Charlie!” Charlie himself looked a little sheepish, his ears turning pink.

“Actually, I fainted when her waters broke. My mom and dad drove Nadia to the hospital while I was passed out. I think they’re just happy to finally be grandparents. They adore her.” Bones overheard the exchange and furrowed his brow for a second.

“Wait, so if you were a week early then she must have been born…” He cut himself off as Nadia’s smile became tinted with a tone of melancholy.

“Yes. She was born on Shorter’s birthday.”

Hearing that was the last straw for Kong and Bones. They looked down at the baby, then at each other, and began to bawl even louder. Bones patted Kong’s back, wiping a tear from his own eye. Alex watched them and comforted them. If the circumstances were different, he would have wasted no time in laughing at his friends crying over a tiny baby. But he sympathised with their tears even if he did not shed any himself. He missed Shorter. They all did. Alex sat up, and very gently took the baby from Kong to cradle her himself.

“Hey now, guys, don’t make her upset!” He teased gently. Kong and Bones tried to collect themselves.

“I know, I know, it’s just… Shorter would have loved to meet her.”

Alex looked down at Yu Yuan’s young face and whispered quietly to her.

“Your uncle was one of the best men we knew.” Nadia patted Kong and Bones’ hands across the table. When she spoke, her tone was lighter, as she made an attempt to brighten the mood.

“You know what that means right? It means that her new uncles are going to have to make sure she’s taken care of.” Charlie nodded firmly in agreement. 

“Exactly. I’m sure she’d love to hear stories of Shorter, and we know that you can tell them best.” Alex passed the baby back to Nadia, and Charlie gave her his finger to hold for a moment. Alex nodded solidly. He was determined to take his job as an uncle seriously.

“It would be our honour.”

After a few more tears and cuddles, the three of them began their shift early to help out. All night, the people who frequented the soup drive came in to see the baby, and gushed to Nadia and Charlie about how beautiful she was. Kong and Bones would tell anyone that would listen that they were her new uncles. Pride shining from every pore.

Visitors from the local Chinese population who had grown up visiting the Chang Dai all dropped in. Everyone from trendy young teenagers who ate at the Chang Dai between university classes, to amahs who remembered Nadia and Shorter from birth. With them, they bought plentiful and generous Hongbao for little Yu Yuan, wishing the young family good fortune for the future. The Chang Dai also welcomed visitors from the Williamsburg community, who came to say hello to baby Esther. From gentlemen in shtreimels greeting the couple with a joyful ‘Mazel Tov!’, to ladies in sheitels who poured over how gorgeous Esther was, and how wonderful her name was to honour her late great grandmother. The day was joyous, and Nadia and Charlie couldn’t be happier.

It was nearing the end of the night shift when Sing came through their doors.

Immediately, Alex, Kong and Bones threw their aprons down and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Soo-Ling! You’re back from Hong Kong!” Sing playfully shoved them all off and wasted no time in putting Alex in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles over his skull.

“I wouldn’t miss seeing everyone! Are Nadia and Charlie in?” Kong called into the kitchen. Nadia came out and shook her head at how childish Sing became around his friends, each of them play fighting and roughhousing. Charlie and Nadia took turns to embrace him. It amazed Nadia that every time she saw Sing, he seemed to grow taller.

“We hear you’ve been to Hong Kong, Soo-Ling. Is Yut-Lung coming for Christmas? I heard through the grapevine he called Eiji recently.” Sing smiled. Nadia always heard things ‘through the grapevine’. He didn’t think even Yut-Lung’s informants could figure out where she got her info from. 

“He is. He’s coming to the ballet in a few weeks.” Alex whistled lowly and placed his hands on his hips. His head shook in disbelief.  
“Man, who would’ve thought after everything.” Sing was pretty amazed himself. He’d half expected Yut-Lung to throw champagne in his face. Alex continued.

“We saw you on the news today being interviewed about the book.”

“Oh yeah, they caught me off guard. Have you guys spoken to the documentary crew yet?” They all nodded.

“Yeah. It was super weird.” Sing agreed. He didn’t want to dwell too much. It was meant to be a happy occasion. He coughed awkwardly and reached into his suit pocket.

“Is that suit new? It’s not like you to splash out on clothes!” Charlie cocked an eyebrow sceptically. Sing huffed and nodded.

“Courtesy of a painful Hong Kong shopping trip with the little emperor himself.” They laughed.

Sing dug further into his inside pocket and produced two Hongbao, which he presented to Nadia and Charlie.

“I wanted to congratulate you both. The first gift is from me, and includes funding for Yu Yuan’s education and any childcare you may need.” Charlie and Nadia gasped, and Nadia began to push the envelopes away.

“Soo-Ling, no, you don’t have to do that.” However, Sing wouldn’t take no for an answer and eagerly placed the envelope into Nadia’s hand.

“Please, I insist. The second one is courtesy of the Lee family and funds any needs she may have.” Nadia and Charlie warily looked at the envelope before Sing was once again forced to make them accept it. Nadia passed the envelopes to Charlie. She stepped forward and engulfed Sing in a tight embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, Soo-Ling… I know _he_ would have been too.” She whispered. And somehow, a weight lifted from Sing’s shoulders. Perhaps he’d needed to hear that.

They separated and there was a brief moment of awkward silence before Bones dove for a bowl.

“Hey, Sing. Want some soup? It’s homemade!” Sing brightened and shot him a smirk.

“Oh yeah? Come on then, let’s see how well Americans can make Luosifen!”

Later that night, Sing would deny that he cried when he held Yu Yuan. Alex, Kong and Bones sat with him well past the end of their shift, and even though Esther couldn’t understand yet, they took turns to tell her stories of her uncle Shorter. Nadia and Charlie would simply watch, and know that their daughter was in safe hands with her uncles.


	5. Cain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Cain gives a talk at a school, he encounters someone who ends up being more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cain is one of my favourite supporting characters in Banana Fish. Intelligence and loyalty perfect for a philanthropist!
> 
> Any S/P/G errors don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

If anyone were to ask him what went right, Cain would usually reply that he finally fulfilled his potential. To which the person who asked, whoever they were, would probably think he was a pretentious asshole. And if it were any less true, Cain would have agreed. Growing up, his mom had always told him that he was a smart boy, and could do great things if he put his mind to it. It was her gripe ever since he was young. She had pinned it down to the fact little boys were a menace. But as Cain grew older and older with every year, he noticed more and more how ability and opportunity were two completely different things. It was something he grew evermore bitter about as he became perceptive enough to those around him.

He saw peer after peer work their asses off and still end up in a job where they were struggling to put food on the table. He couldn’t figure out how they had done everything right and still end up where they were. In the end, he had assumed that he would end up the same. Working some nine to five job to make a rich man richer like every other bum in New York. He had once heard money was the route to all evil, and he could see why. It was at this point his mom had told him not to think like that. Cain remembered her words clearly.

_“Many great men and women didn’t change the world by giving up.”_

Cain would regret not listening to her. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t matter if it was Harlem, Queens or any other godforsaken corner of the city, he would still end up a loser. He was young, he was angry, and he needed a way to express it. When he saw no hope, like many kids craving some kind of connection, he found a family in a gang. Black Sabbath. He had come to them at fifteen, scrawny and ready to take on the world. And unlike his mom, they didn’t tell him to calm down. They told him they could use someone like him. From then on, Cain felt important and invincible at a time where there wasn’t much else on the table. He was unconscious to the damage it was doing. In trying so desperately to make something of himself, he was sealing his fate. Despite his intelligence, he was failing his classes. He would tell his mom he didn’t see the point. If he was going to fail anyway, why should he even try?

Years later he became boss. He ran downtown with intelligence and necessary brutality. 

Then one day, the Lynx appeared in front of him.

Ash Lynx.

And he was plunged into the world of Banana Fish. 

Suddenly his world was so much wider than Harlem. He was working alongside men he would have jumped had he seen them on his turf in any other scenario. Never in his life had he pictured being involved with something so much bigger than himself it could shake the very foundations of the White House. He became part of something so huge he had the attention of the world. Suddenly he and a bunch of other young guys, nobodies just like him, had uncovered one of the biggest scandals in American political history. Just some smart kids from New York with untapped potential.

It was only then that Cain began to re-evaluate his perspective. He used to be loyal to his gang and no one else, no one outside of Black Sabbath could be trusted. But now he owed so much of who he was to people he had met and gone through hell and back with, and they owed him just as much. Scrawny little Sing Soo-Ling, who wasn’t so scrawny anymore. Eiji Okumura, who had never once been afraid of any criminal he met, including him… and Ash Lynx. The gangster with the face of an angel.

After everything was said and done, life had given him a sudden reality check. He could go back to the way he had been, or he could take the rare second chance he was given and start everything anew. Potential was a wonderful word. It meant promise, the unknown, and, if nurtured correctly, it held something Cain had never had. Opportunity.

Cain made his decision. He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try. 

The road ahead was tough, but it was worth taking. If he really wanted to change something, it had to start with a whole load of hard work. Every night, Cain attended night school for his bachelor’s degree. He’d sit in the library studying for hours, pouring over every nook and cranny of Criminal Justice. The more he read, the more he remembered and recounted each time he’d been read his rights as he was hauled off to the station. He wanted to make a difference to kids who had been like him. Lost and abandoned by the system. Kids with no money and limited opportunities. As much as it was for him, it was for them too.

He spent almost every evening in Chinatown, sat in the Chang Dai with Alex, Kong and Bones. He was grateful for their help and company. Between their volunteering shifts they were by his side helping him revise for his LSAT. Eiji and Sing would cheer him on with snacks and drinks that were also appreciated. After a whole four months of study, and a newfound liking of bubble tea that was verging on an addiction, he sat the exam and waited anxiously for a whole month for the results.

The day finally came. He almost thought the last half year had been a dream. He came home from the library only to see his mom sitting anxiously at the table, looking at the pristine envelope before her like it was a bomb. Cain’s face had dropped as he took a seat opposite her. The butterflies in his stomach were starting to make him feel a little sick. He picked up the envelope as if it would bite him. His heart pounded as he opened it and unfolded the letter inside. He could barely read it.

_Dear Mr. C Jackson,_

_I am delighted to inform you that you have been accepted onto our Law program…_

Needless to say, he didn’t bother to read the rest.

That Sunday at church, his mom bragged to everyone she could find to tell them that her Cain was going to law school. He was going to be a lawyer. Cain had never seen her so proud. His heart was flying. This was it. His opportunity.

Years later, he looked into his hand at his legal certificate and went to celebrate at the Chang Dai with his friends. Things had only gone up since then.

“Mr. Jackson? Thank you for coming in today!” A sweet faced woman called to him from where he had been welcomed into the teaching lounge.

“It’s really my pleasure, Miss…” He waited for her to answer.

“Miss Lawson.” Cain smiled and shook her hand.

“Let me just check all the children are in the assembly hall and I’ll be right back for you.” Her heels clacked on the lino floors as she hurried away, leaving Cain to his thoughts. He took this minute to glance down at the leaflet in his hand that contained his speaking notes.

_HAVEN Foundation: Harlem Against Violence, Exploitation and Narcotics_

Out of all the things he had achieved, this was his pride and joy. Once he had finished his legal degree, he had decided that there was only so much the law could help with. He realised there needed to be contact with vulnerable communities and people. This realisation led him to become the founder of the HAVEN community outreach program. It would aim to help kids and young adults like he had been to reach their potential and not turn to a life they would later regret. The HAVEN foundation had also made the decision to partner with the Wong Food Trust to help fight food insecurity across New York. Their tireless efforts and great food did nothing but promote assimilation of communities no matter the race, gender, religion or nationality. Food, it seemed, was a great unifier.

While Cain did love law, it was the charity work that was his passion project. He had seen all too well the effects of drugs on livelihoods. He had seen it intimately. He had seen how the rich and powerful thought that they could use violence against the little guy for their own selfish gain. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the face of Colonel Foxx staring at him, Soo-Ling and Eiji as if they were nothing. But also ingrained upon his memory was the strong, intelligent Ash Lynx who became absolutely broken down by men who weren’t worth the air they were breathing. He remembered so well how Foxx beat and violated him to the point he couldn’t stand to be touched.

He remembered the Ash Lynx who never got a second chance.

Cain tried to repress the memory of that place. Pushed down the grey buildings and military uniforms and Flemish accents. He swallowed and adjusted his windsor knot at his throat. An important part of the foundation’s work included visiting schools and providing talks on anything from the dangers of gang involvement, safe sex, and use of drugs. Today he had been invited to talk about gang involvement at one of the poorest schools in the district. Cain wouldn’t normally have been nervous; he’d been through too much shit to be scared by a bunch of kids. But today marked the first talk he’d had since his face had been plastered all over the news when Max’s book debuted. He couldn’t move for interviews for weeks. The press were at his firm and outside his apartment. They were everywhere. He made sure to personally chew out Max when he had the opportunity. Credit to him, Max had apologised and told him it should calm down in a while. Truth be told, it wasn’t himself Cain was worried about. With all the new attention surrounding their experiences, he made sure to check in on Eiji.

Cain knew that Sing was keeping an eye on him. Sing had always had a soft spot for Eiji. They all did. Somehow, in Ash’s absence, they felt a strange sense of responsibility for him. Had he been alive, it would have absolutely been Shorter who made sure Eiji was okay. But alas, they were both gone. So, even though they knew Eiji was perfectly capable of caring for himself, they still wanted to be there for him. For Ash. Cain called Eiji from his office to see how he was holding up. There was something about hearing his voice that was just comforting. He had that effect on people, even after everything. While Cain was fairly sure that none of these kids had read the book, he was absolutely sure they’d seen him on the news. At this rate he’d be surprised if people in Timbuktu hadn’t seen him on the damn news.

Just then, the door clicked open, and Miss Lawson popped her head in.

“Mr. Jackson, we’re ready for you.” Cain nodded and followed her to the assembly hall where the pupils were waiting for him.

The talk had gone well. The pupils were attentive and listening, seemingly interested in what he had to say, which was more than Cain could have asked for to be completely honest. Cain always thought that they related to him more because he wasn’t bullshitting them. He’d been there and done it. He’d done everything he was telling them not to do because he knew how bad it could get. It was shaping up to be a constructive hour… until it reached time for questions.

“Okay, does anyone want to ask Mr. Jackson anything?” Miss Lawson posited to the room. Several hands flew up with all the usual asks. Nothing Cain wasn’t used to. Has he killed anyone? What was it like being a lawyer? Why did he give up gang life?

Cain answered them all sincerely. He gave his reasons and tried to be as honest as he could while skipping over the gorier details. He thought he was just about done, but then another hand was raised from the back of the room. Cain glanced over. The boy confidently had his hand in the air, but something about him unnerved Cain. The look on his face was weirdly uncanny. He tried to remember if they’d met somewhere before.

He was African American, and judging by the way his legs were bent uncomfortably he was tall for his age. Cain had seen him somewhere before. He was sure of it. Whoever he was, he didn’t look particularly happy.

“Yes, Gabriel?” Miss Lawson asked. The boy locked eyes with Cain from across the room and asked his question in a tone that indicated he wanted to pry a little more. 

“Is all the stuff in that book true or bullshit?” Cain stopped the teachers from scolding him for the language. He knew immediately there was something to this kid. Cain could feel it. It was like looking in a mirror at his younger self.

“Why do you ask? Did you read it?” Cain asked, keeping his voice calm. The kid nodded his head. The students all turned around to the kid, Gabriel, and whispered conspiratorially about how he had challenged him, waiting for his reply.

“Yeah. Drug lords, Chinese mafia and stuff. Seems a bit fake if you ask me.” Cain smirked.

“Kid…”

“Don’t call me kid.” The students sniggered but Cain just smiled. He was right. He wasn’t a kid, he was a young man. A young man who was curious and ballsy. He liked him already.

“Okay, Gabriel was it? It sounds like something a madman would make up, but every part of that book is the absolute truth. I was there. I saw it. There is not a word of a lie that Max Lobo wrote.” Even from across the room, Cain could see Gabriel seem to narrow his eyes.

“Then it’s true that you let your boys die at the hands of the Corsican mafia? And for what? Some pretty blond gay boy? What kind of a leader are you?”

The murmurs amongst the students grew louder. The teachers hushed them, and sensing the oncoming argument, asked them to thank Cain for his talk. The students gave him a round of applause, but Cain wasn’t really interested. He wanted to speak to Gabriel.

As the kids filtered out for their lunch break, Cain spotted him. He called Gabriel aside to talk to him. Up close, he looked even more familiar.

“What do you want?” Gabriel murmured; brow furrowed. Cain had been right. He was tall for his age. Cain subtly looked him up and down. He was dressed in a loose tracksuit, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at those familiar eyes, so brimming with intelligence. Life.

Potential.

“What’s your name?”

“Gabriel Johnson.” Cain nodded.

“And you’ve read the book? It’s pretty long. I’m surprised you bothered.” Gabriel shrugged.

“Finished it in three days. No one would shut up about it, so I thought it was worth the read.” Cain raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Why is that?” He observed as the first signs of hesitation crossed Gabriel’s face. Cain waited and eventually Gabriel sighed in defeat, the silence between them getting too much. 

“I wanted to see if my brother was in there.”

Upon hearing this, Cain immediately wracked his brain for anyone he’d known who had a brother called Gabriel. His memory failed him and turned up nothing.

“Who was your brother?” Gabriel’s expression seemed to soften just a fraction.

“Nathanael Johnson.” Cain knew that name. “But everyone called him Skip.”

It always astounded Cain how obvious everything became when you knew the answer to a question. The answer had been staring him in the face. This kid was Skip’s brother. He should have known. He looked exactly like him. Cain’s family had known the Johnsons for years before they’d moved to Manhattan. For a moment, Cain’s heart sank. Looking at Gabriel was like peering into a future where Skip had been given the opportunity to grow up and become someone. When Cain had got the news he’d died all those years ago, he recalled thinking what a waste of young life it had been.

Gabriel could see the shock and realisation on his face.

“You remember him, don’t you?” Cain could only nod. Gabriel’s face then hardened. “So if everything that book said was true, why did you abandon your guys like that!? Why weren’t you there when Skip was shot?” Cain hated the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had seen it so many times, but it never got any easier. It was the face of a kid who’d been so strong for so long. Who was determined not to let his emotions betray any sign of weakness, even though he was well within his rights to be hurt and visibly upset. Cain rubbed at his eyes. This was more than he bargained for when he woke up this morning, but Gabriel deserved an explanation. He didn’t deserve to hear about the death of his brother in a book published to the entire world. Skip wasn’t just a small puzzle piece in a large conspiracy. He was someone’s son, someone’s brother, and a living person. Just like everyone else who had lost their lives too soon for the sake of a conflict based entirely on greed and power.

“I told you everything in that book was true, right?” Gabriel nodded. “I meant it.” Gabriel’s mouth set in a line and his body was tense. Cain thought for a moment he was going to punch him, but after a second he relaxed, defeated by emotion.

“I remember him every day coming back home and talking about Ash Lynx as if he was some kind of God. Ash Lynx may as well have killed him.” Cain knew he had to handle this carefully. He wanted to defend Ash, but he also didn’t want to invalidate anything Gabriel was feeling. He had to be sensitive. Tactful.

“You know what Max didn’t put in the book?” He asked carefully. Gabriel looked up through his dark eyelashes.

“What?”

“How Ash Lynx cared so much about Skip he fought tooth and nail to avenge him. We all did. For him, for Shorter Wong and everyone else who died because of Banana Fish. Every time we went up against the Corsican mafia or the Chinese or anyone was because they had taken one of our own. We knew our odds of winning were few and far between, but we did it because we couldn’t let them die in vain. You could even say that Skip was the reason all of this happened the way it did. Skip meant that so many young boys being exploited by men in power were finally brought to justice. Skip was the reason we discovered more and more about the drug and how dangerous it was.” He looked Gabriel in the eyes. Cain continued. “He was the reason we eventually won.”

Gabriel still looked unsure, but he swallowed and asked Cain tentatively.

“So you did all that even though you thought you wouldn’t win?” He paused. “Ash did it… for Skip? Not for Eiji or Shorter?”

“He did it for them too. Let me tell you, he may have looked pretty in those pictures, but he was one tough son of a bitch.” That got a chuckle from Gabriel. Cain winked. “Don’t tell Miss Lawson.” Cain let himself remember. “Skip was liked by everyone. I’m sorry I can’t bring him back. It was true that without his involvement he wouldn’t have died. I can’t deny that. But after he was killed, it made us stand up and acknowledge what we were dealing with.”

Gabriel stopped to think for a moment.

“Did you ever want revenge for yourself? That army guy –“

“Foxx?”

“Yeah him. And that Chinese guy too. You were buddies with Ash and then this Chinese dude kills him? I’d want, I don’t know, some kind of compensation. So many Black Sabbath died too. Didn’t you ever want revenge or something? If it was my friends, I’d pop them so fast they wouldn’t know what hit them.”

He had a point. Cain had wanted revenge at first. Memories of the events had swarmed his head like a nest of stinging wasps. He had thought night after night about hunting down the remaining members of Foxx’s unit. Or taking a trip to Hong Kong to fucking finish off Yut-Lung himself. He had been so angry for a long time. Dino killed himself like a coward, Foxx was gone, Marvin was gone, Lee Wang-Lung was gone. It felt unfair. Like he hadn’t managed to make them pay for what they did to his guys, to Skip and to Ash.

But the more time went on, the more he realised that revenge was not the bloody deaths he’d imagined. It was entirely different than he thought.

“Yeah. I wanted revenge, and I got it.” Gabriel was enraptured, but still wanted more.

“Yeah? What did you do?” Cain let a small smile slip.

“I succeeded.” Cain could tell Gabriel didn’t quite follow, so he continued. “I decided to become better than them. I did well in my studies and made a living for myself. I can help people like me. I’m the living proof that I got revenge. I survived and I’m trying my hardest to make sure no one ends up in the position I did. The people that tried to get revenge with violence, what happened to them? They’re dead. So who had the last laugh?” A realisation seemed to happen somewhere inside Gabriel.

“So you got revenge by… not getting revenge? By being successful?” Cain smiled and nodded.

Gabriel looked up at him for a few seconds. Cain took a moment to just acknowledge him. He was like he had been. He had so much room for growth and knowledge.

Potential. He had potential.

Cain couldn’t save Skip, nor Ash, Shorter, or anyone. It would take time for Gabriel to learn to deal with the events that surrounded his brother’s death. He was allowed to be angry, confused and sad. It was part of life. But one thing Cain knew for certain is that he wanted to nurture his mind. To guide him when things got tough.

“Gabriel. You’re smart. You’re reading books hundreds of pages long in days and asking difficult questions some journalists are too afraid to ask. If you work hard in school and stay out of trouble, if you want it when you’re older, there’s a paid internship at my firm waiting for you on the other side.” Gabriel’s jaw dropped open before he collected himself.

“I don’t need a pity job.” Cain smiled, folding his arms over his chest. He thought he might say that.

“It’s not pity. It’s investment. One day you may make a valuable employee of mine. I have to make sure I have people with your skills before the others nab you up.” Gabriel smirked.

“Yeah?” He hummed in thought and his smirk only widened. “Perhaps if I have time I can drop by. Or maybe I’ll run off to work for the Lee Sing Trading Corporation instead?” Cain barked out a laugh. Cheeky kid.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to pay you more! So, Mr. Johnson, do we have a deal?” He stretched out his hand, and Gabriel immediately shook it firmly.

“Yeah. I suppose we do.”

Cain couldn’t save Skip, but his legacy was going to be Cain’s revenge. He was going to nurture Gabriel’s potential. Help him, guide him, and give him opportunity. He was going to make sure that Ash’s revenge for Skip was seen through to the end.

He couldn’t wait to watch Gabriel grow.


End file.
